


Through Storm to Sunshine

by LilyK



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Action/Adventure, Case Fic, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 12:28:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11463603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyK/pseuds/LilyK
Summary: When an undercover op with a serial rapist goes horribly wrong, Bodie needs to rely on his instincts to save his partner. But will he be successful?





	Through Storm to Sunshine

"I have a plan to catch this bastard," Ray Doyle said, slouching in a chair before his Controller's desk.

His easy tone belied the inner anger he felt. He crossed one ankle over the other and shoved his hands into his pockets as he glanced at Bodie, who sat stiffly beside him. Doyle could read his partner like the proverbial book, and right at that moment, Bodie's unhappiness radiated off him even though his demeanour revealed nothing. Doyle knew his partner wanted the wanker caught as much as he did. It was the method he proposed to do the catching that had Bodie's dander up, and all that banked fury would erupt sooner or later.

But even with Bodie's opposition, Doyle reckoned that this was the best way to accomplish his goal. And he wanted this one, badly. Besides, it should be our goal, he thought with irritation.

"Oh?" Cowley responded, taking off his glasses. "And will I like this plan?"

"Yeah," Doyle said while Bodie said, "No."

"Well, which is it?" Cowley asked, scowling.

"It's a good plan," Doyle added.

"Let's hear it, man." Cowley gave an encouraging nod.

Bodie let out a derisive snort as he crossed his arms and stared at a spot on the wall behind Cowley's head.

"Do you have a problem, 3.7?" Cowley asked testily.

"No, sir."

Cowley glared at Bodie for a moment before he nodded at Doyle.

Doyle cleared his throat. "I'm going in as bait."

"I see. Run it down for me, from the top," Cowley said.

Bodie shifted uneasily. "You've got our reports, sir," he pointed out.

"I know I have your reports! One of these days, Bodie... Now I want to hear all of it from Doyle." Cowley stared at Bodie until he looked away. "Is there a problem, 3.7?" he repeated.

"No, sir."

A telling pause. "All right, then. Doyle, refresh me on the facts and what you plan to do about the menace committing these crimes against the citizens of this fair city."

"Right. We know a good bit about the rapist, other than his identify, of course. We've done the interviews of all the known victims. Five men. So far, that is. Their statements are all fairly similar, so we've been able to work out how he did what he did. The men who were assaulted are the same body type and colouring, so their being targeted wasn't a coincidence. As it happens, sir, I'm close to that type, which is why I'm proposing that I go under."

"And so is Simons!" Bodie interrupted.

Doyle turned to Bodie and gave him a knowing smile. Bodie only glared in return, his eyes clearly projecting his displeasure. Bodie tended to get quite protective at times. And this one was of those times.

"But Simons isn't on this case," Doyle said patiently. "We are. It's our case and I want him caught. You know as well as I do that he needs to be stopped." At Bodie's exasperated sigh, he added, "And I'm going in."

"Makes a good deal of sense so far. Go on," Cowley said. "The devil is in the details, 4.5, and I want this to work the first time out of the gate."

"Yes, sir," Doyle said with a grin. "Okay, then. We know he's drugging his victims and he's bold enough to do it in the pub where they meet. Witnesses remember two of our victims being helped outside by a mate who said his friend was drunk and that he'd see him home. The witnesses and the victims agree on the man's features: blond hair, brown or hazel eyes, medium build, fit, mid to late twenties. Natty dresser with a glib tongue."

"Well," Bodie said, "he'd have to be to get those blokes to let him chat them up."

Doyle cast Bodie a quick smile. "Most fellas aren't going to let a nasty bloke chat them up now, are they?" He turned back to Cowley. "They remember feeling dizzy, confused, in a trance while he works them over and then rapes them." With a grimace, he added, "Worse thing is that the drug heightens the sexual response."

"How so?" Cowley asked.

"Leaves them panting for it," Bodie offered.

Cowley gave Bodie a measured look. "So this is a psychological attack, as well as a physical one."

"Yeah," Doyle said. "This one's a real nutter. Our lab boys say there are any number of drugs that can put a body into that sort of a state. They impair motor function and sedate the victim, but he's still conscious, still half aware of what's going on. Like a dream you can't wake up from."

"Sounds like a bloody nightmare," Bodie muttered.

"Aye, it is that," Cowley said.

Doyle nodded. "We still don't know exactly what it is, but it doesn't matter. It works and it's not lethal, or the men would all be dead."

"I'm sure part of his plan is that they know they're helpless during the attack and remember it afterwards," Cowley offered.

"Sick bastard," Doyle said. "If the lab had blood or urine, they'd be able to test, but they don't have any samples." He scrubbed at his nose. "Truth is that none of the men wanted to even admit to being raped. Ambassador Gordon's younger brother, Michael, finally spilled it to Gordon, but that was only after he'd been hospitalized for slitting his wrists. Otherwise, we'd never've known. And only because the Ambassador passed on the facts and his displeasure with our country to the Home Secretary did anybody know what'd gone on. Well, you know what happened then."

"Oh, aye, I know. I don't much like being called into the Home Office on a Sunday morning. Nothing good ever comes of that. I'm happy the lad survived and is now getting the treatment he needs.

"Gordon represents one of our best allies and I don't want any bad blood between us. Having a member of such a prominent family assaulted on our soil doesn't reflect well on us." Cowley rubbed his eyes before he added, "This is a civilised country. I intend to keep it that way. Continue," he said with a wave of his hand.

"Two of the assaults were reported to the local coppers as muggings," Bodie offered. "The other three weren't reported at all, but the men did go to hospital. We rooted them out after we'd sent a couple of the lads out to search the other divisions for reported assaults against men in a five mile radius of the pub where Gordon was approached."

Cowley nodded. "Good police work on this one, it seems. I understand this sort of attacker often works in an area in which he feels most comfortable, and this is what provided the crucial key to finding these other victims."

"Yes, sir," Doyle said. "We ran down the names and then called the hospitals. Once we had a list, we tracked down the victims."

"What made you decide that there weren't more assaults in other parts of the city?" Cowley asked.

Doyle said, "Don't know 'bout that, but I know how this type of sick bastard works. They've a field of operation."

"Our Doyle was a copper, sir," Bodie added with a smirk. "Used to carousing with the criminal element and all."

Cowley sighed and rolled his eyes before tapped the files on his desk. "What do these five have in common?"

Bodie shifted. "They're all homosexuals."

"Yet they weren't abducted from the usual gay establishments," Cowley mused before he asked, "They admitted this to you?"

"Only after we gave our word that none of them would be called to testify. Hence, one of the problems, sir," Bodie said.

Cowley fiddled with his glasses. "These men were drugged. Tell me more about this."

"They all had the same tale to tell," Doyle said. "Bloke approaches, chats 'em up, forks over cash for drinks. Suddenly they're dizzy and sweaty, and their new friend is kindly helping them outside. Next thing they recall is going barmy... Having hallucinations: feelings of euphoria, wanting sex. When they come to they find themselves in an alley or a vacant lot, beaten and sexually assaulted."

"What about calling out for help?" Cowley asked.

Bodie leaned forward. "Lab boys says this drug somehow makes them compliant even if, in their heads, they're rebelling against what's happening to them."

"Yeah. The boys said there are several drugs that have hypnotic, sedating effects and yet produce a sexual response. They also admit that somebody with a chemist's background and access to the street trade could possibly concoct their own drug. Not that it matters in the end what it is."

"Must be tasteless and odourless, sir," Bodie added. "None of the men remember anything unusual about their drinks."

Cowley leaned back in his chair. "So we have a man who is targeting men of a certain type with the intent to injure them physically and mentally."

"It's not our sort of case," Bodie groused. "Should be left to the Drugs' Squad or the coppers."

Doyle shrunk deeper into his seat when Cowley leaned forward and glared at Bodie. Maybe a dressing down from the old man would get Bodie on the side of angels on this. "When a diplomat's kin is injured on our soil, Bodie, then it becomes our problem. CI5 investigates whatever I deem necessary, and I deem this to be so. Do you have any other comments?"

Bodie pursed his lips. "No, sir."

"Good. Doyle, set it up. Bodie, I want you in the surveillance van during this op."

"Sir?" Bodie rose. "No way! Not with Ray inside! He needs backup and I'm more suited to being on the spot than in the bloody van!"

Cowley stared up. "And he will have adequate backup. I'll assign two men to watch over him. Doyle, you may have Anson as bartender and pick either Simons... No, not Simons, he's a mite too close to the victim's profile and he's not been cleared for this sort of op. This isn't the case I want to break him in on." He paused, finger tapping his lower lip. "In fact, let's put in Jax and Brown. This perpetrator hasn't shown a preference for black men. Brown as bartender, and Jax can mingle. The less white males in the entire establishment, the better."

"Yes, sir," Doyle said, rising. "Thank you."

"Right. On your bikes. I want this set up and ready to go by Friday night."

"How many nights' obbo?" Bodie asked.

"As many as it takes!" Cowley said. "And alert the local coppers that we want any reports of assaults within your original search grid, in case we need to regroup on the field of operation. And request that they stay off that part of the beat while we're on site. Doyle, do you have a pub picked out?"  
  
"Yes, sir. Two actually."

"You will start with the most likely, I'm sure. Keep me informed."

"Sir," Doyle said. He left Cowley's office with Bodie on his heels.

\---------------------------------------

"I don't like this one bit," Bodie grumbled, adjusting the headset and viciously twisting one of the dials on the listening equipment. "It's not right, this. Something's not right."

Murphy raised an eyebrow. "Funny how you always get so sweet and considerate to your fellow agents when Doyle's undercover." Bodie ignored Murphy's sarky mouth, which wasn't the best course of action, he realised, when Murphy obviously took it as an invitation to continue. "You'd think you and he were attached at the hip. Doyle this. Raymond that."

Bodie tossed Murphy a hard glance. "I am more concerned about my fellow agents than you'll ever be," he said coolly.

"Oh, right. You're such a humanitarian. Admit it, mate. It's because your partner's arse is on the line." Murphy favoured Bodie with a lecherous look, which made Bodie want to thump him. "You always get incredibly testy when Doyle's out of your sight. You'd wrap him up in cotton wool if you had your way." He snickered. "Not that Doyle'd let you, with that sharp temper of his!" Then he let out a dirty laugh.

"Christ, you talk a load of rubbish. You'd think this was all fun and games. Maybe you'd like to be the one to have to drink that shit and let some sodding nutter attempt to fuck you. After Doyle takes that drink, he won't be able to stop what that bastard'll try to do to him. It'll be up to us, so you'd better keep on your toes. Mess this up and you'll be sorry." Bodie gave a final glare before he turned away.

"I'm sorry, mate. I just-"

"Shut it," Bodie snapped, not willing to hear apologies right now, however sincere. "Can't hear with you blabbering."

Murphy wisely shut it, but it didn't make Bodie want to put a fist into his face any less. Sodding Murphy, always one to latch onto the tinest snip of gossip and run with it. Sometimes he got right up Bodie's nose, even if they were mates. Well, Doyle got up his nose, too, and they were the best of mates. He smiled before he brought himself up short.

Now wasn't the time to teach his fellow agent a thing or two about partners and loyalty and friendship. Not with Doyle's arse, and more, on the line, as Murphy had so indelicately put it. Keep your mind on the job, old son, Bodie thought before he let out a disgusted snort.

Doyle's arse wouldn't be on the line at all if some bloody diplomat's brother hadn't gone and got himself drugged, beaten and raped. Logically, Bodie knew it wasn't the victim's fault, but at the moment, he didn't feel like being logical. Besides, if the fellow had gone to the coppers right off, this mad bastard might have already been caught.

But Bodie understood the way of it. No man he knew would be willing to admit to anybody that he'd been buggered. Too embarrassing to have to explain the details. Not manly to admit it, even if you'd been drugged to the gills and unable to fight back.

Bodie knew if they didn't catch the nutter tonight, in the act, he'd most likely continue. That angered him mightily. That and other things. Like the fact that none of the victims were willing to give testimony in court even if the rapist was caught. Gordon had adamantly refused to speak at a public trial, so it was up to Doyle now. Doyle would have to let the assailant drug him and take him away. It was up to Bodie and Murphy and the other agents to make sure they got to his partner before he was, in fact, raped. They had to catch the filthy madman in the thick of things so that their statements would seal his fate.

That was the most important thing: stop him before he hurt Doyle. Bodie grimaced. If only-

"Here we go," Murphy said, breaking into Bodie's musings.

Bodie snapped to attention and concentrated on the conversation being fed through Doyle's hidden mic.

 _"May I join you?"_ a male voice said. Cool, suave, in control, but friendly.

 _"Yeah,"_ Doyle said, his voice equally calm. _"I'd enjoy the company."_

Bodie felt himself tense when Doyle spoke. They only had a general description of their quarry and a police sketch to work with. His partner had accepted this man's offer, so he must feel that the bloke fit that description. And, apparently, the bugger had set his sights on Doyle right off. All Bodie could do was listen... and pray Doyle followed procedure. Doyle knew what to do.

They all did.

Now if only the rapist followed the rules. Drug his mark, take him out the front when the intended victim grew woozy, and... What? A local bedsit? Back of a van or lorry? They had no clue where the rapist conducted his horrible assaults, so they needed to be on their toes. Doyle was depending on them.

Bodie listened intently to the conversation.

 _"Geoffrey. Nice to meet you."_ Ah, a name! Was it real or false? And no surname. Not unusual on a first chat-up, but irritating nonetheless.

_"Ray. Likewise."_

_"I've been watching from across the room. But you're definitely worth a closer look."_

_"Thanks. You're being kind to an older gent, I see."_

_"You're far from old. Barely over thirty, I'd say."_ A pause, which made Bodie twitch with impatience and once again silently curse Cowley. He'd wanted to be inside, not sitting a hundred metres away in the buggy-boo. Barring that, he fervently wished he could see what was happening. He'd have killed for a video feed, but in the old pub, it was next to impossible to covertly set up because of the room's layout.

Finally, Doyle's table mate spoke. _"Do you like what you see?"_

Doyle chuckle came through the mic. _"Oh, yeah. I've a fondness for blonds as it is, and you're just my sort. Young, handsome... nicely built. And you have gorgeous hazel eyes."_ Good, Doyle was feeding the description through loud and clear.

Bodie had the sudden urge to put a fist through a wall, but instead, he sat still, barely breathing. He didn't like Doyle being undercover in the best of times, but when he was this far away, he downright loathed it. But Doyle loved the challenge, the bleedin' chameleon, and Bodie could only promise himself that he'd be ready at a drop of a hat to cover his partner's back. Even if he was too many metres away in the back of a cold surveillance vehicle, nothing would keep him from crossing the distance like the wind and smashing this mad cretin into a pulp. Better yet, he'd take him out with a bullet in the brain...

_"I'd like to buy you a drink."_

Bodie's hand clenched and he bit his lower lip. Old Geoffrey was definitely making his move.

_"That'd be nice. Beer. Just a half, please."_

_"Only beer? You deserve champagne."_

Oh Christ, Bodie thought. And I thought I had a glib tongue!

_"A beer will be just fine."_

_"My pleasure, then,"_ Geoffrey answered.

Bodie listened intently while Murphy adjusted several dials, and after a moment, turned to Bodie. "Brown says he's got a clear line of sight on Doyle. It's our man, all right. He's at the other end of the bar now, buying drinks."

Bodie nodded. "Brown'd better be on his toes."

"You know there are two of our lads parked out front. We got the drop on this prat's methods. He's probably not bright enough to go out of his game- Hang on. Brown's seen our Geoffrey spike Doyle's beer."

"Christ," Bodie snapped.

"Doyle knows what's going on, Bodie. He knows he has to drink it."

"I know that. Don't tell me things I know," Bodie said surily.

Murphy shrugged, turning back to his equipment.

 _"Thanks,"_ Doyle said.

Bodie sat still, holding his breath. In his mind's eye, he saw Doyle drink the spiked liquid. He clenched his fist, digging his nails into his skin.

 _"What do you do?"_ Geoffrey asked.

 _"I'm a civil servant,"_ Doyle responded, making Bodie smile.

_"Interesting."_

_"Not really. Just a lot of paperwork. What about you?"_

_"I work in a chemist's shop."_ Truth? Bodie held his breath. This idiot was bold.

_"I didn't catch your last name."_

_"I didn't throw it out,"_ Geoffrey said with a laugh. _"I generally try to keep my -- assignations on the light side, but you seem like a really nice fellow to me. It's Campbell. Geoffrey Campbell. You?"_

_"D- Doyle."_

_"Are you all right?"_

_"Yeah. Just a bit... Sorry. I need to visit the gent's."_

_"You probably need some fresh air. It's a trifle thick in here. Let me help-"_

_"Ah... God... I'll be back in a sec."_

Bodie heard the scrape of chair legs on the wooden floor. "Murphy?"

"Brown says Doyle's going to the loo. Mad Geoff is at the table."

Bodie chewed his lower lip. "So if he follows his own play book, when Doyle returns, he'll graciously offer to escort him outside. Keep sharp, mates," he said into the mic, "and don't lose them!"

Suddenly, a loud crash made Bodie pull one of the headphones away from his ear. Then the sound of scuffling and shouts.

"What the...? Bar fight?" Bodie growled, cursing under his breath.

Murphy turned a dial. "Jesus."

"What's happening?"

"Campbell. Brown can't find Campbell. He's not at the table. He's... gone."

"What about Doyle?"

Murphy asked Campbell via his mic before he said, "He's not come back from the loo."

Bodie's hand froze on the dial. "He's broken his pattern."

"What?"

Bodie was up and running, shouting over his shoulder. "Have Brown check the bog!" Then he was out the door. As he raced toward the pub, he pulled his r/t. "6.4! Is he in there?"

"Negative, 3.7. Loo is empty."

"Christ, you've gone and lost my partner!" Bodie jammed the r/t into his pocket and pulled his weapon. He ran for all he was worth through the front door of the pub. The local coppers hadn't yet made an appearance regarding the bar fight, and bodies were lunging and arms were swinging while other patrons not inclined to fight struggled to get out of the way. Bodie pushed his way through the crowd and the tables and chairs, narrowly avoiding being slammed by a bar stool, which forced him to skid on the beer-covered floor. He didn't hesitate as he kicked in the gents' door, but he didn't waste more than a second glancing in. Something told him that Doyle wasn't there and he always followed his instincts when the chase was on.

Turning, he ran to the delivery entrance in the rear and burst through the partially opened door. He spun on his heels, searching the alleyway that ran behind the building. "Fuck all!" he shouted, waving his arms.

"Murphy!" Bodie yelled into his r/t. "Where are they?"

"We're searching now. The lads have been sent out. Calm down, Bodie, we'll find him. They couldn't have got far!"

"Shit!" Bodie ran to the end of the alley and glanced left and right. How far could a slender man dragging or carrying a drugged body get? Far enough, he reckoned before pausing mid-stride.

How far?

"Follow your instincts," he ordered himself, then spoke into his r/t. "Murphy, he's close by. Look for a van or a lorry. He's raping them close to where he kidnaps them, then driving away afterwards."

"Roger, 3.7," Murphy responded.

Bodie took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he trotted towards a nearby car park. He glanced down a row of vehicles, checking for the sort that would offer enough room for the rapist to operate. Windows painted over or no windows at all...

Moving along, he checked the next line. A large cargo van was parked at the end. The car park was darker there and a glance upward showed that one of the overhead lamps was out. Bodie felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Every instinct he possessed told him that this was his goal. And every instinct urged him to rush forward and burst in, but he tamped that impulse down. He needed to be as cautious as he was quick.

Bodie hurried forward on light feet, ears straining for the slightest sound from inside the van. He came to a halt when the vehicle shook and a loud thump broke the quiet of the night.

Reaching for his r/t, Bodie whispered, "6.4."

"Here, 3.7."

"Get over to the car park on Foster. White parcel van, second row, at the far end close to the wall. Moving in now."

"Bodie, wait for back-"

Bodie pocketed the r/t and scuttled forward quickly. His hand had barely touched the back door of the van when he heard the slap of flesh, followed by muffled cries of pain. Bodie cringed. Doyle!

Taking a steeling breath, Bodie prayed the back door wasn't locked. He'd hoped to catch the bastard by surprise, but he'd shoot off the lock if he had to. The van rocked and more cries could be heard. Doyle was clearly struggling, somehow fighting back. Bodie pressed the lever down and flung the door open.

In that instant, Bodie thought about firing, but he was afraid he'd hit Doyle. The man had Doyle's shirt bunched in his left fist, lifting his partner's upper body off the floor. His right arm was pulled back, ready to strike. Before the assailant could make another move, Bodie was on him, his arm around the man's throat and the barrel of his gun against his temple. Doyle fell from the man's grasp.

"Give me a reason," Bodie said softly, encouragingly. "Go on. Make a move."

The man went limp in Bodie's arm, much to his disgust. His finger itched to pull the trigger, but the pounding of feet outside on the pavement and a moan from Doyle brought him up short. Murphy appeared at the open door and Bodie let out a frustrated sound as he pushed the assailant through the opening. Murphy dragged him to the tarmac and Bodie quickly turned to his partner.

Doyle lay sprawled on the floor, his mouth covered with tape and his hands tied behind his back. His shirt was in torn, and while his belt buckle was undone, his jeans were still in place. Bodie breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ray!" Bodie was beside his partner in seconds. "Hang on, sunshine. This is going to sting." He quickly tugged off the tape, making Doyle groan. "Are you hurt?" Stupid question. Bodie could see the beginnings of a black eye and there was blood on Doyle's cheek and neck.

"Bo... die?"

"Right here, Ray. Let's cut these ropes. Christ, you're a mess." Bodie carefully leaned Doyle against his own shoulder and opened his Swiss army knife.

"I'm juss grooveeee," Doyle muttered before he started coughing. "Hurrss..."

"What hurts, mate?" Bodie asked gently as he sliced through the ropes, cursing when Doyle hissed in pain. "Murphy, where's that sodding ambulance?"

"Two minutes!" Murphy called out.

"Well, hurry it up!" Bodie put a hand on Doyle's back when he started to shake. "Stay still. We'll get you checked out at hospital. You've got a black eye and there's blood on your neck. He didn't get at you, no thanks to Brown and Jax. Bloody incompetence..."

"Bodieee?"

"I'm here, Ray."

"Don' feel so good."

"I know. It's that shit you had to drink. Are you going to be sick?"

"No," Doyle said, then promptly vomited all over himself and Bodie.

Bodie didn't even flinch. He'd seen worse in his day, and his relief at finding Doyle in one piece never dimmed.

"Sorr... sorry," Doyle whispered, slumping back against Bodie, who'd helped him move away from the worst of the mess and towards the open door.

"It's okay, Ray. Murphy!"

"Don' be mad, Bodieee."

"I'm not angry with you. Just anxious to get you to hospital."

Murphy pulled both doors open. "Ambulance is here."

"Give me a hand with him."

Together, they got Doyle out and onto the trolley. Bodie took off his jacket and tossed it into the back of the van. He gave a shiver. It was a mild night, but the adrenaline high he'd been on while he searched for Doyle was ebbing away.

As Doyle was being wheeled off, he suddenly called, "Bodieee!" He held out his hand, which Bodie took without a second thought.

"Right here, Ray."

"Don' leave me. Don' wan' hos- pital." He hiccupped.

Bodie nodded to the ambulance attendants. "I'm with you, mate," he said firmly, letting the attendants know with a glance that intended to stay with his partner. "Let's go."

\-----------------------------------

Doyle drifted in and out, babbling then falling silent, while Bodie took enough pictures to ensure that his condition was carefully catalogued. After the nurses stripped him, Bodie took more pictures of his partner's bruises and cuts before the women cleaned him up. The doctor did a through check and, after making copious notes, he turned to Bodie.

"He's definitely drugged. We've taken several blood samples. He has a few cuts and bruises, but overall, he's not hurt badly." The man checked his notes. "I think he'll be just fine after a good sleep and a few days of rest. We can't give him any other drugs to counteract the one he was given since we might do more damage than good. The best course of action is to keep him comfortable and let it run its course. We'll put him into a room for the night and keep a close eye-"

"No! Bodieee!"

"Ray?" Bodie move close to his partner's side. "You're fine, partner. Just relax."

"Don' wanna stay in hospi- al! Please, Bodieee." Doyle reached out blindly.

"Shhh. Okay. Take it easy." Bodie glanced at the doctor. "Will it hurt if I take him home? I'll keep a close watch on him." do brits say "what in blazes?"

The doctor pursed his lips. "I suppose not. He does seem a bit agitated and we don't want him wandering around, keeping the other patients awake. I think if he'd relax well enough in the privacy of his own home, it would be best."

"Hear that, sunshine? I'll take you home. Keep you out of trouble."

"Ta," Doyle said, swallowing loudly. Bodie was surprised when Doyle's eyes filled with tears and he gave Bodie a pout.

"Hey, none of that," Bodie said, wiping away the moisture.

"Wanna go home," Doyle whispered, glancing sideways at the doctor as if the man were the enemy and would snatch him up at any moment. "Pleazze."

"Let's find you some clothes and we'll do just that."

Bodie helped Doyle up and into a sitting position on the trolley. He and one of the nurses got Doyle into his jeans, which were a bit worse for the wear, but would last until they got to his flat and he got Doyle into a hot bath. His partner's shirt was a total loss, so Bodie took off his own, slipped Doyle's arms into it and buttoned it to the neck.

"There you go. Good thing I have on a vest or I might be arrested for indecent exposure."

Doyle blinked slowly, patting his own arm. "Sof 'n warm."

"It's one of my new ones so be nice to it. Come on, trouble. Cowley was supposed to have my car brought over. Since neither of us have a jacket, we'll get the heating cranked up right away. Lean on me."

"Love you, Bodieee," Doyle said softly, giving Bodie a toothy grin. "Really and tru- truly. You're me bestest mate."

Warmth at Ray's words suffused Bodie, even if the words were from an addled Doyle. "Let's go, my silly lad."

\----------------------------

"Ray, mate," Bodie said, trying to keep his tone light, "I happen to know that you have a few bones in that skinny frame of yours."

Bodie sighed as he struggled to get Doyle up the stairs. Doyle flopped around, arms flailing as he continually tried to wrap them around Bodie's torso. His feet kept tangling, and Bodie could've sworn he had ten legs instead of just two. Bodie wondered if they'd ever get to the third floor. On the second floor landing, he gave up and draped a giggling Doyle over his shoulder, carrying him the rest of the way to entry door.

It took a few minutes to dig his key out of his pocket, all the while Doyle continued to chuckle and grab at Bodie's arse. Bodie tried to hurry, but Doyle's fingers slipped under the waistband of his trousers. Those searching fingers kneaded his bum.

"Doyle! For chrissake, not in the corridor!" Bodie finally got the key into the slot and opened the door. KIcking it shut with his heel, he strode directly to the bathroom, where he deposited his loopy partner on the closed toilet lid.

"You're a sight," Bodie said, unbuttoning his shirt. Doyle grinned, leaning his head on Bodie's arm.

"You're gor- geous."

"I know."

"Wanna fuck?"

"Doyle! Christ, mate, the drugs have scrambled what little brain you've left. Come on, then. Let's get you cleaned up."

"Bath?" Doyle grinned.

"Yes, a bath."

Doyle lifted an arm and stuck his nose under it. "Phew. I smell baaad. An' I wanna clean me teeth. Tas'e 'orrible."

Bodie had to laugh. Doyle's eyes were alight with mischief. His grin never dimmed. "I have to say, you do stink to high heaven."

"Ta, mate." He pursed his lips and blew Bodie a kiss.

Bodie chuckled, turned on the taps and adjusted the water, then handed his partner his paste-covered toothbrush. Doyle hummed happily as he brushed, wavering side to side on the loo seat. For a moment Bodie thought he'd slip to the floor, but Doyle laughed and put a hand out, steadying himself. Thankfully, he wasn't so far gone that he was completely unaware of his surroundings. He tossed the brush into the sink and grinned at Bodie, mouth full of paste.

"Here, rinse." Bodie handed him a glass of water, which Doyle took with a foamy grin. He swished the water around in his mouth before he made a feeble attempt to spit into the basin. Most ended up running down his chest. Giggling, Doyle swiped at the mess he'd made.

"Cold," he declared.

Bodie merely shook his head as he helped Doyle stand up. Somehow, even with the roaming hands and shaky legs, he managed to get the remainder of Doyle's clothes off. While he directed his loopy partner towards the tub, Doyle's hand somehow found his crotch. He palmed Bodie through his trousers, squeezing.

Bodie jumped.

"Unhand me, you cad!" he quipped, making Doyle laugh out loud and give him what Bodie could only describe as a hungry look. Randy toad that Doyle was, Bodie wasn't surprised that he was aware of their close proximity in the small room. With the drug still running rampant in his system, Bodie knew Doyle was ready and willing in a big way. Of course, Doyle's full cock had given Bodie a hint as well. He made himself ignore the hard flesh. Now was not the time to be looking at his partner's erection, he told himself.

"In you go." Bodie helped Doyle into the bath, pleased when Doyle carefully leaned back with a happy sigh.

"Feels wonnerful!"

"I'm going to scrub that mop. You've got enough crap in it to sink a battle ship."

"The Ti- tanic?"

"The Titanic wasn't a battle ship."

"Oops." Another giggle.

Bodie industriously tackled Doyle's hair, all the while Doyle happily sang a mindless tune and splashed water over the edge of the bath. He hiccupped, giggling even more while Bodie rinsed out the shampoo.

"All right. Soak for a bit while I wash up."

"Comin' in?"

"No, I'm not coming in with you." Bodie fondly shook his head, stripping down to his pants. Doyle's hand reached out to pat his bum. "Ray!"

"What?" Doyle looked up, all wide-eyed and innocent.

"Nothing," Bodie muttered, filling the sink with water. He wondered how long his own body would ignore Doyle's blatant advances. Long enough, Bodie ordered his cock. He soaped up a flannel and washed from head to toe, then rinsed and dried. Doyle splashed around a bit before he reclined back, eyes closed. "Don't drown."

"Nope. Wouldn't do."

"It certainly wouldn't." Bodie snagged his robe from the back of the door and slipped it on before brushing his own teeth. Rinsing, he heard a soft moan. A quick glance told him exactly what Doyle was doing.

"Doyle! Enough of that. Come on. Water's cold. Up and out."

"'m horny," Doyle said, stroking his cock while Bodie dried him with a thick towel. "Wan' to fuck you, Bodie."

"Doyle..."

"Don' you love me?" Doyle looked at him like a small boy who'd lost his puppy.

"You're drugged, mate. It's not-"

"Bodie!" Doyle moved closer and wrapped his arms around Bodie's waist. He clung tightly. Before Bodie could take another breath, their mouths were fused together.

Bodie shuddered when Doyle's tongue probed his tonsils. He lost himself in the moment and the kiss. God, but Doyle was a good kisser, even drugged.

Bodie twisted his head to the side. "Ray," he pleaded.

"Bodieee, please!"

Doyle's arms tightened; his eyes filled with tears. Damned drug. Bodie was afraid that if he tried to disengage the winding arms and legs, he'd have to use considerable force. After what Doyle had been through tonight, he wasn't willing to hurt him in the slightest. And besides, it wasn't often he'd been treated to a giddy Doyle. It was amusing, but also, strangely, a thing of beauty. Doyle's giggling brought a grin to Bodie's own lips.

"Too many clothes," Doyle muttered before he moved back and went at the belt of Bodie's robe.

"Time for bed." The words were out before Bodie realised his mistake. He'd meant to sleep, of course...

Doyle apparently had other ideas. His eyes lit up while his whole face brightened. He nodded happily as he grabbed Bodie's hand. With all his wiry strength, Doyle dragged him out of the room. His foot snagged Bodie's trousers, but Doyle merely hauled them along, laughing. Somehow, he managed to dislodge the material on their journey, all the while pulling Bodie with him until he had Bodie pushed back onto the bed. Then, like liquid lightning, he was on top of Bodie, pushing the robe aside. Before Bodie could protest, Doyle's teeth were latched onto a nipple.

"Ray!" Bodie shouted when the teeth bit down. He shuddered, his cock taking an immense interest in the sensations swamping him.

"Tasty," Doyle said before his mouth returned to its job. With teeth and tongue and fingers, Doyle worked his way down Bodie's body to his pants. He reached in and drew out Bodie's cock. "Gonna suck you."

"Ray...," Bodie said weakly. "Maybe you shouldn't."

"What?"

Those large eyes looked up at him. Bright green, alight with desire and affection. Bodie was lost. He could barely blurt out, "Love you, Ray."

The smile that crossed Doyle's face made all of Bodie's trepidations disappear. "Far out."

All Bodie could do was laugh as his cock was suddenly wrapped in wet heat. He was drawn into the maelstrom of his body's responses to Doyle's touch. All of his senses were centred on Doyle. He cried out as he came in Doyle's mouth, then all of a sudden he found himself face down on the bed, naked and panting and begging. He used his last functioning two brain cells to reach to the night stand for a tube of hand lotion and clumsily squirted a large dollop down the crack of his arse.

Doyle was a force of nature, and Bodie was dragged out to sea with the storm of passion unleashed when Doyle entered him. He couldn't believe that he orgasmed a second time when Doyle himself let loose while buried deep inside. He shivered at the touch of Doyle's lips to his ear, whispering an endless litany of raunchy phrases and tantalizing promises and sweet loving words until he fell asleep, wrapped securely in the arms of Ray Doyle, his best friend on this God-forsaken planet.

\----------------------------

Doyle woke with a groan. He couldn't remember feeling this horrible in a long time. Everything ached, from the soles of his feet to the top of his head. His brain felt sluggish. His mouth tasted like it had been trod in by somebody with muddy boots. The vision of dirty shoes in his mouth made his stomach roil.

He rolled to his back, prying his sleep-sticky eyes open. "Oh, fuck." It was even worse now. The thick curtain over the window was drawn, but even the small fingers of sunlight that managed to creep around the edges stabbed right into his brain.

As he brushed a hand down his chest, he froze. Christ. What in God's name was caked all over him? Instantly awake, he sat up much too quickly and groaned again, head between his hands. Had he tied one on last night?

Last night...

Last night! He'd been doing something. Something important. Right. An obbo. Undercover op. He'd been undercover! Now he remembered. He'd been under setting up a rapist. A filthy piece of scum who'd been assaulting blokes. Had he been raped? No, no. He remembered now. Bodie'd saved him. Bodie, his own Sir Lancelot, had stormed the gates in the nick of time.

Doyle slipped his feet to the floor and tested his equilibrium. He felt stable enough, so he pushed himself upright and gingerly made his way to the loo, tripping on a pair of trousers left in the middle of the floor. He kicked them aside. Once in the bathroom, he paused, realising those trousers weren't his. In fact, they looked like the same black trousers his partner had worn last night.

What the hell? Doyle twisted the taps and stood under the shower, letting the hot spray pound against his body. His cock barely twitched as he soaped it thoroughly. Washing the sensitive skin, he felt a bit of soreness. He knew the feeling all right. He'd shagged somebody. But who? Oh, God...

He'd had Bodie last night! Had taken advantage of him. Had -- forced him!

Doyle practically leapt from the bath and grabbed the robe hanging on the door. "Bodie!" he called as he wrapped the robe around himself, padding wetly down the hallway, oblivious to the trail of water he was leaving in his wake. "Bodie!"

"In here," Bodie called, and Doyle followed his voice.

Doyle burst into the kitchen. He would have slipped on the lino if not for Bodie's strong hands that immediately latched onto his elbows.

"Where's the fire, mate?" Bodie said, righting Doyle. After a pat to Doyle's arm, he waved to the table. "Tea's hot. You must be starved."

Doyle took in the table laden with breakfast food, two place settings and a tea cosy in the shape of a rooster covering a pot.

"You can eat at a time like this?" Doyle shouted, then winced when pain shot through his head.

"I was hungry!" Bodie raised an eyebrow. "At a time like what?"

"I fucked you!"

Bodie grinned.

"Why are you laughing?" Doyle demanded.

"It was fun."

"Fun? You call me doing exactly what that piece of crap rapist did fun?" Doyle clenched his fists. "I took advantage of you!"

"Would you rather have coffee instead of tea?" Bodie looked up from his seat as he casually buttered a piece of toast, folded it over and jammed three strips of bacon into the pocket. "There's plenty of bacon and eggs. No tomatoes, though. Pity."

"Bodie!"

"Doyle, sit down. Have a couple aspirin. Then have some tea and toast if your belly won't take the rest of it. Good, though." He crunched down on the tasty meal.

Doyle sighed with exasperation. After he viciously yanked on the robe's belt, he sank into a chair, resting his head on his hand while Bodie poured. "I'm sorry," Doyle said pitifully.

"Doyle, you didn't do anything wrong," Bodie said reassuringly.

Appalled, Doyle stared at his partner. "Nothing wrong? Christ, I forced you!"

Bodie chewed on his toast for a moment. "As if you could have forced me to do anything I didn't want to. Jesus, Ray, you were doped to the gills. All I had to do was tap your chin and you'd have been out like a light."

Doyle glared, then his horror at what he'd done abated slightly at Bodie's forthright reaction. "Still-"

"Shut it. We fucked. Not as if we hadn't done it before," he said matter-of-factly.

"I don't have the right-"

"Your eggs are getting cold. Tea?" Bodie didn't wait for Doyle's response. Just poured, stirred in the proper amount of sugar and milk he preferred for his first cuppa before pushing it close to Doyle's hand.

"You didn't have to let me, you know."

"I know that, you prat. But you were bound and determined and I didn't want to hurt you. You were on me like a limpet." Bodie beamed. "I liked it. Liked that you let go, went wild. Besides, if anybody's supposed to feel guilty, it should rightly be me."

"How do you reckon that?" Doyle took a sip of tea and swallowed the tablets.

"You weren't exactly in fighting form. I took advantage of you whilst you weren't in your right mind." Bodie snickered before he sipped his tea. "Considering that what you call your right mind is a sorry excuse for a functioning brain anyway."

Doyle felt himself being teased into a better mood. He wasn't having it. "That's no excuse! You should have slugged me!" He crossed his arms and ordered his eyes not to prickle.

"Listen to me," Bodie said, pointing a half-eaten piece of toast in his face. "It's not as if you and I haven't been fucking for months now. Besides, I told you, I had a blast. I think you're still feeling a bit off because of the drugs."

Doyle stared at Bodie for a full minute before he shook his head. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better about -- what I did?"

"If you can forgive me for taking advantage of you while you were drugged out of your skull, then I can forgive you for making me come twice in an hour."

"Twice? Blimey, I'm good, aren't I?" Doyle finally gave his lover a half-hearted grin.

"You are that. Now drink the rest of your tea before it goes cold."

Doyle sipped the still-hot brew, sighing gratefully. "This hits the spot." After his second cup, he rose abruptly.

"What?"

"Did we catch him?"

"We did."

"Oh." Doyle sank back into his chair. "Thank God."

"Thank me and Murphy and the lads. God was out doing other things last night."

"Apparently not, or you wouldn't have got to me in time. I'd say he was on the job all right." Doyle spooned a bit of scrambled egg onto his plate and took a small bite. He waited to see if his stomach approved and, after a minute, he ate another forkful. Surprisingly, his stomach asked for more. "Good." He bit into a piece of toast.

"Cheers. Have a rasher. Food will settle your stomach and help it get rid of all those nasty toxins. How's the head?"

"Not bad. A bit thick."

Bodie grinned. "So nothing out of the ordinary, then."

"Bastard."

"Doyle..."

"Hmmm."

"Do you remember... I was... Oh, sod it."

Leaning back in his chair, Doyle eyed Bodie intently. "What are you trying to ask me? I won't bite your head off, if that's what has you sputtering like an old Vespa."

"I do not sputter!"

Doyle had to smile at the indignation etched on Bodie's face. "'Course not. All proper and sophisticated you are."

Bodie sniffed royally and helped himself to another slice of toast. He spread a thick layer of marmalade on it, then licked the spoon.

"So go on. Ask me what is it that's eating at you."

Bodie mumbled around the bread he'd stuffed in his mouth.

"Pardon?"

Bodie swallowed. licking his lips. "Did you mean what you said last night?"

"Oh, Christ. What did I say? I didn't tell you where me biscuit stash is, did I? Or worse yet, that new bottle of whisky. They'll be no end to it now. You'll think I'm holding out on you all the time. Is that it?"

"No, that's not it!"

Doyle chortled with triumph at Bodie's irritation, then he smiled his encouragement. "Bodie, just ask me. There's nothing we can't talk through." He waited patiently while Bodie shifted in his seat. Finally, those expressive eyes looked directly at him. His heart skipped a beat.

"Bodie?" he prompted.

"Do you love me?"

Doyle blinked slowly before he reached out a hand. Bodie grasped it immediately. "Ah, Bodie. Haven't said it, have I? Last night, I must have blabbered on. No, don't pull away." Doyle held on tightly. "Wasn't sure you wanted to hear all that, so I never said anything before. I know we've had a rousing time of it in the sack, but I didn't want to hold you back."

"But what if I want to be held back -- by you?"

"That would be terrific." Doyle smiled and squeezed Bodie's fingers. "Let's clear this up once and for all. Whatever I said last night-" Doyle shook his head at himself. "Whatever I don't remember saying, well, it's all true. My subconscious wouldn't lie to you, and now I won't either. You and me, mate. If that's good for you, then it's definitely all right for me."

"You and me, going through this bleedin' world together works for me." Bodie gave Doyle a blindingly sweet smile.

Doyle felt himself tearing up yet again. He swiped at his eyes with his free hand. "Fucking drugs."

"Yeah, fucking drugs. And Ray? Just so there's no misunderstanding, I love when you shag me. And I love you as well."

"Far out."

Bodie laughed. "Still drugged, eh?"

"Not hardly." Doyle rose, bringing Bodie with him by their joined hands. "So come here and kiss me so's I can really remember it."

"And then?"

"And then we'd better give Cowley our reports."

Bodie groaned. "Not exactly what I had in mind, but I see the sense in it, before he decides to come calling." He stood and tousled Doyle's hair. "What would you say to the idea that we spill all about us?"

Doyle couldn't keep the surprise from his face as he looked up. "But I thought-"

"Stuff it. I was an arse. He should be told. If he chucks us out on our bums, so be it. I know what's important to me, and it's not Cowley or CI5."

"Bodie, I don't know what to say."

"Say yes."

"You sound like you're asking me to marry you!"

Bodie grinned sheepishly. "Guess I am."

"You're a ham-fisted prat, but since that's the only thing on offer, my answer is yes. To both things."

"Always the romantic. That's my Ray."

Doyle rose and stood in the circle of Bodie's embrace. "I am that." He smiled, sealing his approval of their deal with a kiss.

When he finally released Bodie, he was treated to a warm smile and a hand that cupped his cheek. A kiss hit the end of his nose, before Bodie leaned even closer. "I have something important to say to you."

"Oh? Go on, then. I'm all ears."

"You should know that the water's still running in the shower."

End

**Author's Note:**

> First published by Requiem Publications in Secret Agent Men 12.


End file.
